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Challenging films at VIFF

Soon after he discovered he was Jewish, Csánad Szegedi reached out to Rabbi Boruch Oberlander. Szegedi’s transformation from virulent antisemite to Orthodox Jew is the topic of the documentary Keep Quiet. (photo from Gábor Máté/AJH Films & Passion Pictures)

While this year’s Vancouver International Film Festival holds much that will be of interest to Jewish Independent readers, the list is short when it comes to specifically Israeli or Jewish-related films that will appeal.

Perhaps surprisingly, the Israeli films are harsh critiques of Israel. Beyond the Mountains and Hills (Israel/Germany) is about a dysfunctional family (a metaphor for the country), Junction 48 (Israel/Germany/United States) is about an Arab-Israeli rapper who faces racism, among other Israeli-inflicted ills; Between Fences (Israel/France) is a documentary about Israel’s internment of African refugees at the Holot Detention Centre and Vita Activa: The Spirit of Hannah Arendt (Israel/Canada) is about Hannah Arendt, who, among other things, was critical of Jewish leadership during the Holocaust and did not approve of the state of Israel as it was founded.

Among the other film offerings is Keep Quiet (United Kingdom/Hungary), a documentary about Csánad Szegedi, the staunch antisemite who helped found Hungary’s far-right party Jobbik and its Hungarian Guard, which has since been banned. As a member of the European Parliament, he continued to foment hatred until a fellow nationalist and racist outed him as being Jewish – his grandmother had not been the adopted daughter of the Klein family, as she told him, but their daughter. The documentary includes interviews Szegedi did with his grandmother (about her imprisonment in Auschwitz, and other matters) and a conversation with his mother, who also found out later in life that she was Jewish. He asks both women about his increasing embrace of antisemitism over the years, why didn’t you stop me? Their responses are thought-provoking and sad.

Keep Quiet does not accept Szegedi’s transformation unquestioningly and gives speaking time to the doubters, as well as the cautious believers, such as Rabbi Boruch Oberlander, head of the Orthodox Rabbinical Council in Budapest. Oberlander has supported and taught Szegedi since the former antisemite contacted the rabbi for help. The event that ends the film is Szegedi’s attempt in 2013 to speak in Montreal about his Jewish journey – he wasn’t allowed to stay in the country. Before being put on the next plane home, however, Szegedi recorded a lecture, which was played at the event, with Oberlander fielding the hostility it wrought in some attendees. In Oberlander’s view, we must love every Jew, no matter how wicked. Of his choice to help Szegedi, he says, “I pray that I shouldn’t be disappointed.” Even Szegedi is unsure as to whether he would ever turn his back on Judaism – maybe, he admits, but not likely.

The way in which the filmmakers present Szegedi’s story is informative and balanced, and viewers get a sense of the man and his deeds, as well as about Hungary and how a political party as racist as Jobbik can find success there.

photo - Hannah Arendt
Hannah Arendt (photo from the Hannah Arendt private archive via Zeitgeist Films)

Vita Activa also does a good job of including both fans and critics of Arendt’s work, but mainly uses Arendt’s own words to explain her thoughts and analyses. The film uses as its foundation the Adolph Eichmann trial, about which Arendt wrote Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil (1963), describing Eichmann as “a typical functionary,” and thus an example of the “banality of evil.” (Viewers should be warned that there are many disturbing Holocaust-related images in this film.)

“Eichmann was quite intelligent but he had that dumbness,” she tells an interviewer in one of the clips included in the documentary. “It was that dumbness that was so infuriating, and that was what I meant by ‘banality.’ It has no depth; it isn’t demonic. It’s simply the unwillingness to ever imagine what others are going through.”

Another of Arendt’s theories – about refugees – remains relevant. With no rights, refugees are considered “superfluous” by a regime, she argued, and denationalization and xenophobia become a powerful weapon of totalitarian politics.

In Keep Quiet, a political journalist describes Hungary as a “part of the world where history has been manipulated” and the effects that such manipulation has upon generations. Arendt broadens that view beyond Europe, saying, “It has been characteristic of our history of consciousness that its worst crimes have been committed in the name of some kind of necessity or in the name of a mythological future.”

In addition to her early work, Vita Activa touches upon Arendt’s personal life, which offers some further understanding of the philosopher, who was seen by many to lack empathy. In one interview, she talks about how Auschwitz shouldn’t have happened, how she could handle everything else but that. Yet, she criticized the Jewish leadership who cooperated with the Nazis – the councils and kapos – and hypothesized that, if there had been no such leadership, there would have been chaos and suffering and deaths but not six million. One professor interviewed for the documentary calls Arendt’s comments “irresponsible,” another says they showed her complete ignorance of history, yet another says she regretted her remarks later in life.

The film also notes Arendt’s change from supporting Zionism to condemning elements within it. Among other things, she said, “A home that my neighbor does not recognize is not a home. A Jewish national home that is not recognized by and not respected by its neighboring people is not a home, but an illusion, until it becomes a battlefield.” And she pointed to tendencies within Zionism that she considered “plain racist chauvinism” that do “not differ from other master race theories.”

The documentary also covers Arendt’s 1951 Book of Thoughts, in which she contemplates the nature of forgiveness, revenge, reconciliation. For her, the latter doesn’t forgive or accept, but judges. When you take on the burden of what someone else did, she believed, you don’t accept the blame or absolve the other of the blame, but take upon yourself the injustice that occurred in reality. “It’s a decision,” she said, “to be a partner in the accountability, not at all a partner to the guilt.”

photo - A “theatre of the oppressed” workshop at the Holot Detention Centre in Israel
A “theatre of the oppressed” workshop at the Holot Detention Centre in Israel. (photo from Vancouver International Film Festival)

Reconciliation and forgiveness don’t enter the picture in either the documentary Between Fences or the fictional (but based on a real person) Junction 48. They each highlight important, even vital, issues in Israeli society, but do so in such a condemnatory, predictable way that anyone but the choir won’t be able to sit through these films.

Without much context, Between Fences looks at the poor situation in which asylum seekers from Eritrea and Sudan find themselves when they reach the safety of Israel. In many countries, these asylum seekers face problems, but viewers wouldn’t know that from this documentary, nor would they begin to understand the atrocities being committed in their homelands. However, they will learn how Israel doesn’t recognize their refugee status and makes every effort to send them back, how racist Israelis are towards these newcomers and a host of other problems with Israel and its people. Not one government official or Israeli is interviewed, although some Israelis participate in the “theatre of the oppressed” workshops in Holot on which the film focuses. In addition to leaving many questions unanswered, the film also begins and ends confusingly and is slow-paced.

Bias also makes Junction 48 almost unwatchable for anyone who would like to see the Israeli-Palestinian conflict resolved, so that both peoples’ rights and safety are ensured. From the second sentence of the opening, the perspective is made clear: “The Israeli city of Lod is the Palestinian city of Lyd, which once sat on the main railway junction. In 1948, tens of thousands of Palestinians were exiled from Lyd in order to resettle the town with Jews….”

photo - Samar Qupty and Tamer Nafar in Junction 48
Samar Qupty and Tamer Nafar in Junction 48. (photo from VIFF)

We then meet Kareem, an aspiring young rapper, whose parents are worried about his involvement with drug dealers and his future in general. His friends not only deal and take drugs, but visit prostitutes and dabble in other criminal activity. Nonetheless, every Israeli they encounter is the real bad guy, from the police to other rappers to the government, which is knocking down one of their homes to build a coexistence museum. Oh, the irony.

The only entertaining and thought-provoking aspect of this film is the music by lead actor and film co-writer Tamer Nafar, which is available online.

In the end, the Jewish Independent chose to sponsor what a VIFF programmer called a “classic Jewish comedy,” though, having seen a screener of the film, the Jewish aspect is hard to discern. While much lighter (and non-political) fare than the other offerings, it has much to say – or show, really, as the dialogue is minimal – about social awkwardness and a lack of direction in life. The protagonist, Mike, works at a pizza place in New Jersey and has the energy level of a slug and the magnetism of zinc. Yet, somehow, he has friends, albeit not great ones.

Short Stay is one of those films that moves apace with its main character, so slowly and in all different directions, as Mike both physically wanders the streets and mentally wanders to destinations unknown. Viewers don’t gain insight into what motivates Mike, who seems unperturbed by his lack of career, social skills, direction and future, but they root for him, empathize with what must be his loneliness.

photo - The social awkwardness of the protagonist of Short Stay, Mike, is obvious in his exchanges with others
The social awkwardness of the protagonist of Short Stay, Mike, is obvious in his exchanges with others. (photo from VIFF)

Short Stay director Ted Fendt best describes the acting of the nonprofessional cast, many (all?) of whom are his friends. “The film contains a range of performance styles from the fairly natural (Marta and Meg), to Mark and Dan’s B movie ‘villains,’ who might have stepped out of an Ulmer or Moullet film, to the quasi-Bressonian, unaffected manner Mike delivers his lines.” And therein is a Jewish link, Edgar G. Ulmer.

Another Jewish filmmaker – Vancouver’s Ben Ratner – will be premièring his short film, Ganjy, at this year’s festival. About a former boxer suffering from dementia pugilistica, who is in desperate need of help when three friends visit, Ganjy was inspired in part by Muhammad Ali. Its creators are looking to fundraise enough to take the film to other festivals, as well as contribute to the Muhammad Ali Parkinson Centre. For more information, visit indiegogo.com/projects/ganjy-film#.

For more information about and the full schedule of films playing at VIFF, visit viff.org.

Note: This article has been edited so that it is clear Hannah Arendt was speaking of tendencies within Zionism that she considered “plain racist chauvinism” that do “not differ from other master race theories,” and not condemning Zionism as a whole.

Reut fills social gaps

Gidi Grinstein (photo from Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver)

When Gidi Grinstein finished his army service in Israel in 1995, he wanted to “make a contribution to the most dramatic issues of our time.” And it wasn’t long before he began making tracks in that quest, about which he will talk at Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver’s annual campaign launch on Sept. 22.

Grinstein, now 44, coordinated Israel’s negotiations with the Palestinians, serving as secretary for the Israeli delegation at the Camp David Summit at the tender age of 29, while serving in the office of prime minister Ehud Barak from 1999 to2001. “They called me on Friday afternoon,” Grinstein recalled. “And they said, ‘The first meeting is tomorrow night. If you come, you have the job.’ It took me about three seconds to think about it.”

Grinstein had a close-up view of the strengths and weaknesses of the inner workings of the government. After the conclusion of the negotiations, he received a Wexner fellowship and spent a year at Harvard University’s Kennedy School of Government, thinking about how to move Israel forward through the many challenges that it faces. As he told Israel21c, “There is a systemic problem deriving from the gap between the complexity of the emerging challenges facing the country and the weakness of the tools of governance to meet those challenges.”

Grinstein concluded that tackling this problem “would have to come from the outside” and, after his year at Harvard, he set out to create a nongovernmental body to address Israel’s most pressing problems.

“Governments in general are weak when it comes to innovation,” Grinstein told the Independent, “so NGOs experiment and explore, try new methods; when there is rightness, the government takes them on.”

Grinstein said Reut (meaning “clear vision”), the organization he founded with two others, aims “to help communities drive their own long-term development and create a vision for the next 10 years.”

Reut does this by mobilizing economic potential, key institutions, the municipal and central government and entrepreneurs. “Reut is a platform for social innovation that aims at what I call ‘inclusive prosperity,’” said Grinstein, “prosperity that includes Jews and Arabs, the wealthy and the poor, everyone. Only inclusive prosperity will bring Israel forward into its future as what it is meant to be.”

Grinstein said Reut exists “to create integrative models to tackle big problems, problems with no market or government solutions, problems where solutions don’t exist or cannot be afforded.”

He pointed out that “the state of Israel does not have a specific unit of people dedicated to long-term well-being of its people, as if that will just take care of itself!”

Grinstein said, in Israel’s early years, it led the world in societal innovation but, in recent decades, it has focused on technological innovation without a corresponding degree of societal innovation, leading to an imbalance. He told Haaretz last year that technological innovation benefits far fewer people than societal innovation. “It creates social gaps,” he said, adding that “Israel has gone from being one of the most egalitarian countries in the world to one of the least.”

Grinstein laid out his vision for Israel in his 2015 book Flexigidity: The Secret of Jewish Adaptability and the Challenge and Opportunity Facing Israel. He views Israel’s role as both a light unto the nations and a key agent of the historical vision and special role of the Jewish people, with concerns that need to transcend a narrow focus on economic and security concerns, as important as those issues are.

Reut’s projects include Firewall Israel, a web platform designed to support every Jewish and pro-Israel community in the world in their local fight against boycott, divestment and sanction challenges; TOM (Tikkun Olam Makers), which addresses neglected societal problems faced by people with disabilities, the elderly and underprivileged, by creating affordable options for them; and the Leapfrog Centre, which offers consulting and training to municipalities, based on knowledge developed through Reut’s efforts in the city of Tzfat (since 2011) and in the Western Galilee (since 2010).

Grinstein will be joined at the Sept. 22 campaign launch, FEDtalks, by Randi Zuckerberg, author, radio host and founder of Zuckerberg Media; Alison Lebovitz, One Clip at a Time co-founder; and journalist Terry Glavin. For tickets and more information, visit jewishvancouver.com/fedtalks2016.

Matthew Gindin is a Vancouver freelance writer and journalist. He blogs on spirituality and social justice at seeking her voice (hashkata.com) and has been published in the Forward, Tikkun, Elephant Journal and elsewhere.

Will state be free?

Binyamin Netanyahu may not have expected the international reaction he received when he accused opponents of Jewish settlements in the West Bank of supporting the ethnic cleansing of Jews. While he went too far, there is some truth to be learned from the fallout.

The Israeli prime minister made the comments in a video, where he noted that nobody suggests that two million Arab citizens of Israel are an obstacle to peace. Yet the presence of Jews in the areas most people assume will eventually be Palestine under a two-state solution, he said, is repeatedly held up as proof that Israel is not acting in good faith toward a two-state objective.

Netanyahu was pointing out one of the glaring hypocrisies in the discussion of an eventual peace agreement and a two-state solution. He was intentionally inflammatory but, in the process, he set off a reaction that is illuminating and worth consideration.

First, we need to understand this basic fact: nobody expects Jews living outside the Green Line to voluntarily become citizens of a future Palestinian state. The entire discussion is an exercise in rhetoric. But this fact, too, raises other issues. Not many believe that Jews in an independent Palestine could live as citizens the way Arab citizens of Israel do under law (however imperfect this ideal might be in practice), partly because it’s probable that nobody would be free in an independent Palestine. If history is any measure, an independent Palestine might be a theocracy run by Hamas, a kleptocracy run by Fatah or some hybrid thereof. Regardless, Palestinian Authority President Mahmoud Abbas, among others, has insisted that no Jews will be permitted to live in an independent Palestine. The world ignores these racist statements, or excuses them as the legitimate reaction of a people long oppressed by the Jewish state.

Since most Jews would flee of their own volition if they found their homes outside the new borders of Israel, Netanyahu’s claims of ethnic cleansing can be seen as inflammatory and false, since it is not the Palestinians who would evacuate the Jews from the West Bank, but the West Bank Jews themselves, knowing the place held no future for them. But, while Netanyahu should be criticized for exploiting the term ethnic cleansing, perhaps to deflect criticism from the settlements, he has also drawn attention to the uncomfortable truth that the dream of Palestinian “freedom” for which so many in the world (including, for instance, most delegates to the recent Green Party of Canada convention) have devoted so much of their energies, is in fact a cause that may instead create a country that is nobody’s dream of a free and independent homeland.

Netanyahu is guilty of poking a hornet’s nest. However, his critics, too, should look at their own assumptions and motivations. The prime minister went too far in summoning imagery of mass deportations, but others have not gone far enough in addressing the reality that the movement for Palestinian independence in infused with unhealthy ideologies, of which excluding Jews from citizenship is just one.

Poland’s wartime contradictions

In August, Poland’s right-wing cabinet approved a bill that would criminalize using the phrase “Polish death camp” or “Polish concentration camp,” with punishments including fines or imprisonment.

The bill raises questions about Poland’s role in the Holocaust. It echoes the country’s communist-era stance on the Second World War – that Poland was a victim and heroically saved Jews.

Growing up, I was told the opposite by my family, my Jewish day school and the broader community – that Poland was antisemitic and complicit in the Holocaust.

But recently, I’ve come to believe that both narratives are true. As we approach the High Holy Days and Yizkor, I think it’s worth reflecting on whether we as a community can see Poland’s role in the Holocaust differently.

This summer, I visited Poland for the first time with my sister, and the trip was full of contradictions. For example, we learned that Christian Poles – including our local guide’s grandparents – were sent to concentration camps, too. The Nazis killed two to three million Christian Poles and three million Jewish Poles. In total, Poland lost one-fifth of its prewar population – more than any other European country. But, those numbers represent roughly 10% of the Christian Polish population and 90% of the Jewish Polish population.

At the POLIN Museum in Warsaw, I learned about Zegota, the Council to Aid Jews. The Polish government-in-exile created it to support and fund Jewish resistance in Poland, including the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising; it was the only such organization created by a European government.

At Yad Vashem, Poland has the most Righteous Among the Nations of any country. Yet, it also lost one of the highest percentages of Jews of all European countries.

We found that Holocaust memorials were also inconsistent, dependent on local policies rather than a unified national one. In our baba’s hometown of Wlodawa, the Jewish cemetery is now a park, without a Holocaust memorial, unlike the many memorials around Warsaw, Krakow and the preserved camps. This inconsistency seems to reflect the divisions within Polish society about whether, and how much, Poland took part in the Holocaust.

In our zeyda’s (z”l) hometown of Bilgoraj, we spoke with three people (through our guide) who live near his former house, which was recently torn down to build a shopping mall. One of them, who had the same build and attire as our zeyda, recognized our family name and said that our zeyda’s next-door neighbors were rumored to have hidden Jews (including, possibly, one of our zeyda’s younger sisters). Another neighbor said her mother hid a Jewish man for three days before he fled town, and that Jews and Christians lived in peace before the war. (Our grandparents never expressed that.)

Nearby, a new development claims to recreate the town shtetl, including Isaac Bashevis Singer’s house, a Belarusian-style (not a local-style) synagogue and luxury apartments. We called it “shtetl Disney.” We didn’t see any information on display about why the real shtetl disappeared, and I only hope that no one will want to live in a place that seeks to profit from nostalgia for a lost community. But that, too, depends on how people see their country’s role in that loss.

At the Krakow Jewish Culture Festival, we took a synagogue walking tour with a guide who, like a growing number of Poles, has discovered her own Jewish ancestry since communism ended. (She’s now a Yiddish lecturer at Columbia.) We learned that Polish-Jewish history dates back 1,000 years, since Jews fled the Crusades and got special protection, including freedom of religion, from a series of Polish kings. We also saw “Jewish-style” restaurants run by and for non-Jews, and “shtetl rabbi” statuettes being sold in the Old Town – we felt uncomfortable seeing people exoticize and capitalize on our culture.

We also saw a play, based on a true story, about a Jewish Torontonian with Polish roots who visits Poland for the first time, confronts the history and legacy of the Holocaust and witnesses the country’s “Jewish revival,” led by Jews and Christians. Seeing some of our experience reflected back at us emphasized, for me, that Polishness and Ashkenazi Jewishness are partly intertwined, whether or not we acknowledge it.

Realizing that our family is more Polish than we’d thought was both heartwarming and heartbreaking. On our way to Wlodawa, we bought fresh forest blueberries along a highway, and realized our grandparents would have grown up eating them, rather than discovering them in Vancouver as adults, as we’d assumed. In Wlodawa, the restaurant where we ate lunch could have been our baba’s dining room: the walls were peach, the curtains were lace and doilies covered the tables. In Lublin, flea-market stalls sold porcelain figurines just like the ones in her glass-doored cabinets. Were we in Poland, or at home?

Several times, I’ve wondered what to make of these contradictions.

The Jewish community, coming from collective trauma, can insist that Poland was a perpetrator; the Polish government, wanting to avoid collective reflection or partial responsibility, can insist it was a victim or martyr.

The truth is, some Christian Poles collaborated and killed Jews; some joined the partisans or hid Jews; most did nothing. The country was occupied and partitioned, and no one (Jewish or Christian) knew what was going to happen. There was a death penalty for resisting or hiding Jews. The truth is, societies are messy and heterogeneous, and we can’t make universal statements about them.

My question is, do Jews and Polish society want to perpetuate narratives that deny the differences within Polish society during the Second World War? Or do we want to heal?

If we want healing, I believe both communities need to accept that Poland was both perpetrator and victim, complicit and righteous – much as we may not want to, and much as that may feel difficult or even impossible. If we can accept this paradox, maybe then we can move from our respective pain to some kind of healing.

Tamara Micner is a playwright and journalist from Vancouver who lives in London, England. Her work has appeared in the Globe and Mail, Wall Street Journal and London Review of Books.

Jews leave Venezuela

Moises Brunstein now lives in Toronto, but he still has family in Venezuela. (photo from Moises Brunstein)

Political upheaval, economic disintegration, rising crime rates and the implosion of social services have brought Venezuela to its knees. The lucky ones see Soviet-style, hours-long supermarket lineups; the unlucky see bare shelves in a country said now to have the worst inflation rate on the planet, in some sectors upwards of 700%. The chaos, combined with rising antisemitism, has spurred a massive flight of Jews.

Caracas’ once-thriving Jewish community of nearly 30,000 has dwindled in just a decade and a half to a quarter its former size. The exodus continues in conditions exacerbated by the sudden departure of foreign investment and international corporations.

Interestingly, Venezuela was among the first countries to recognize Israel and, in 1991, supported revoking the 1975 United Nations resolution comparing Zionism to racism. Jews have lived in relative peace there for hundreds of years, until the last decade.

In May 2004, Tiféret Israel – the oldest synagogue in Caracas – was vandalized after demonstrators at a government-sanctioned protest graffitied on city walls slurs such as “Sharon is a murderer of the Palestinian people,” “Viva the armed Palestinian people” and “Free Palestine.”

In November of that year, armed and hooded state policemen broke into the Colegio Hebraica, a Jewish grade school in the city. During the three-hour sweep of the premises, under the pretext of a weapons search, the doors were locked and bolted with the children inside. Agents found nothing of interest.

Venezuela’s chief rabbi condemned the raid as community “intimidation.” The Stephen Roth Institute for the Study of Contemporary Antisemitism and Racism – based at Tel Aviv University in Israel – reported that the intrusion was “perhaps the most serious incident ever to have taken place in the history of the Jewish community.”

In December 2007, Venezuela’s secret police raided the Hebraic Social, Cultural and Sports Centre, again under the pretext of searching for weapons and drugs, of which they found none.

Coincident with the Gaza War (Operation Cast Lead, December 2008-January 2009), a number of incidents occurred, beginning with then-president Hugo Chávez expelling the Israeli ambassador.

Later, in a public broadcast, Chávez said, “From the bottom of my soul, I damn you Israel. You are a criminal and terrorist state that is openly exterminating the Palestinians,” and he accused Israel of “Nazi-like atrocities.”

At the same time, the Venezuelan foreign ministry dubbed Israel’s actions “state terrorism” and government officials were seen wearing keffiyahs and waving Palestinian flags in the streets at an anti-Israel march said to have been organized by Chávez himself.

On a Friday night in January 2009, armed men broke into Tiféret Israel and gagged and bound security guards. The thugs ransacked offices and left antisemitic slogans on the walls, including a call for the expulsion of Jews from Venezuela. Religious objects in the sanctuary were ruined, and a list of the country’s Jews was stolen.

In February 2009, Beit Shmuel Synagogue was the target of a bomb that shattered windows and damaged a nearby car.

According to the 2009 World Conference against Antisemitism, the average of 45 anti-Israel articles published a month in 2008 jumped to five a day during January 2009, and there were newspapers that accused Israel of genocide.

And the situation didn’t improve much after the Gaza War. For example, the country’s main Jewish organization, La Confederación de Asociaciones Israelitas de Venezuela (CAIV), reported more than 4,000 antisemitic incidents in 2013. And, as recently as this year, the Venezuelan United Nations ambassador, Rafael Ramirez, asked in a speech at UN headquarters in New York whether Israel was “trying to impose a ‘final solution’ on the Palestinians in the West Bank.”

Little of this is shocking to Moises Brunstein, an expat now living in Toronto.

A first-generation Venezuelan, Brunstein’s Romanian parents arrived in Venezuela by Red Cross boat in 1941, after having been prisoners in Nazi-occupied France. With no command of the language and no money, Brunstein’s father worked his way up to become president of the local hydro authority.

“We lived a very nice life,” Brunstein told the Independent. That is, until Chávez came to power. Twelve years ago, at age 29, it was time to go, Brunstein said. With only four suitcases, he came to Canada, leaving behind all of his books, furniture and currency. Some cousins remain in Venezuela, but his father’s side has left for Florida, Australia and Spain; his mother’s side for Canada.

It is his belief that the state is trying to squeeze the Jewish community out of Venezuela. “In 2010 and 2011, the main building where Jews had stores was extricated by the government,” he said. “My mother, a lawyer, saw her offices taken over.

“Everything changed when the government aligned themselves to Hamas, Hezbollah and Iran. The Palestinian flag flew in the Venezuelan congress.”

Brunstein last visited Caracas in 2009 for a cousin’s wedding, and found security to be unusually high. “You don’t wear yarmulkes in public,” he warned.

There are various reasons why many Jews remain in the country, he said. The elderly aren’t necessarily mobile and have no command of a second language; those with businesses find it hard to leave.

Brunstein mails his mother basic foods, medicine and personal hygiene products, as well as a Passover care package.

Meanwhile, an expat living in New York, Freddy Steiner, runs his apparel and clothing stores in Caracas – Componix Clothing – from the United States, but his visits back home have steadily declined.

In 2000, about a year after the Chávez revolution, Steiner moved his family from Caracas to Miami.

“Pure safety, the number one issue,” he explained. “The kidnappings start[ed] to rise, the security was deteriorating. More and more people leave each year, knowing how much this is affecting the next generation.”

Caracas, he noted, consistently is ranked among the 10 most dangerous cities in the world, with medical services next to non-existent, except for the wealthy.

“The entire economy is in a coma, shut down,” he said. “Since early spring, malls and restaurants shut down at 7 p.m., there’s no electricity and no water.”

According to Rabbi Ariel Yeshurun of Sky Lake Synagogue in North Miami Beach, which has a sizeable Venezuelan membership, many of his congregants express concern about family who remain in Venezuela.

Abraham Levy Benshimol, former president of CAIV and of the Ascociación Israelita de Venezuela, said that, in addition to the difficulties experienced by all Venezuelans, those Jews who remain are facing increased challenges because of the exodus. “You still have the same number of schools, but you don’t have the same number of contributors,” he said. “So that’s a big problem.”

Chaya Perman, the wife of Rabbi Moshe Perman, director of Venezuela’s Chabad Centre, said, “The recent anti-Zionism is part of what is going on internationally.”

According to Perman, “nearly every Jewish family is affiliated in some way,” with some 90% of Jewish children attending Jewish day school; kosher meat, pizza, and bread products are still available. Given the overall circumstances, however, houses of worship are using up financial reserves to keep afloat, though they are “not yet at the point where they think they need help from wealthy Jewish communities,” she said.

For the Permans, two married children with their husbands and 15 grandchildren remain in Venezuela. They, much like the rest of the community, don’t know whether tomorrow will be better or worse. But there’s always hope.

“It’s a wait-and-see attitude,” said Perman.

Dave Gordon is a Toronto-based freelance writer whose work has appeared in more than a hundred publications around the world.

Jewish education fund

A longtime advocate for Jewish education, Leon Glassman has established the Leon Glassman Fund for Jewish Continuity through Education with a $1 million endowment at the Jewish Community Foundation. (photo by Don MacGregor)

Learning of new challenges in accessibility to Jewish education in Greater Vancouver, Leon Glassman did exactly what he has always done: he stepped up.

A longtime advocate for Jewish education, Glassman established the Leon Glassman Fund for Jewish Continuity through Education with a $1 million endowment at the Jewish Community Foundation. This endowment fund will support tuition assistance at Jewish day schools and ensure that every family that wants to send their children to a Jewish day school on the Lower Mainland can do so, regardless of their financial means.

As a young father, Glassman made the decision to move his family from Regina to Vancouver because, at the time, the Saskatchewan capital did not have a Jewish school. Looking back, he recalled that, as a child, he had a very limited Jewish education, “so it was always important to me that my children would know their background and have a Jewish identity.”

Glassman’s son-in-law, Jonathan Berkowitz, said that his father-in-law also embraces “the principle that all Jewish children should have access to a Jewish education.”

Over the decades, Glassman has invested untold amounts of time, energy and resources in improving the quality of, and access to, Jewish education. But, he recently discovered that local day schools have been facing the daunting dual challenges of the impact on families of the Lower Mainland’s high cost of living and the schools’ accompanying difficulty in keeping pace with subsidy requests. Families continue to grapple with Metro Vancouver’s housing costs: being reasonably close to a Jewish day school, for many young families, means they spend so much on housing, they cannot afford tuition. The schools, in turn, have faced significant challenges meeting the demand for increased subsidies.

In response, Glassman established the education fund. It will be a legacy that reflects his passion, generosity, lifetime commitment to community and, most importantly, to the continuity of Jewish life and Jewish identity through education.

When asked why Jewish education is important, Glassman said, “Antisemitism is, sadly, once again on the rise, in part through anti-Israel sentiment. Israel is a big part of who we are. Most criticism of her is unfounded and the younger generation must be able to counter the falsehoods. That’s the negative side. On the positive side, the younger generation should know their background, take pride in where they came from and, above all, take pride in who they are.”

While Glassman’s million-dollar gift has started his namesake fund, it is his hope that the community will increase the capital of the fund by making contributions to mark the significant life events of friends and family. In that way, the entire community will both participate in and benefit from the growth of this fund.

For more information or to make a donation to the Glassman fund, visit jewishcommunityfoundation.com.

Youth mentorship program

Kathleen Muir, youth services coordinator at the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver. (photo from Kathleen Muir)

Chill Chat, a peer mentorship program that began a few years ago but seemed to disappear, has been reignited in Vancouver as a hub for youth programs in the community.

The program’s revitalization can partly be attributed to the new Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver youth services coordinator, Kathleen Muir, who has returned to her hometown of Vancouver after getting a degree in social work at the University of Calgary. She brings with her a wide rage of experience, including working in the areas of homelessness and addiction, and suicide prevention and intervention, as well as with disabilities organizations in Calgary and impoverished school districts in Barbados.

Chill Chat is “a peer-to-peer mentorship program” for Jewish youth aged 12 to 22, explained Muir in an interview with the Independent, “but it’s customized to needs and interests, so it really means that anyone who is interested, there is a place for them.”

She said, “You can go into it if you have a disability or if you don’t have a disability, you can go into it if you have any mental health concerns or if you don’t.”

Chill Chat is a three-tiered system, where the mentees are mainly in grades 8 and 9, but with some in grades 7 and 10, and the mentors are in Grade 10 and up.

“You have the grades 11 and 12 that are both going to give support and receive support from Hillel and [the Jewish Students Association at the University of British Columbia],” she said. “What’s really cool about that and something that I love is that it really makes it clear that you can receive help and also be able to give help and, just because you are receiving help doesn’t mean you don’t have the ability or expertise to give out help, too.”

About the role of Chill Chat in the Vancouver Jewish community, Muir said, “We are creating this huge network fabric for support that’s going to be across the board and, because Chill Chat is based on informal support of calling the person or meeting up with them, rather than [come,] sit down, workshop, go home. You have these groups of people who are able to call each other whatever time they need, who are able to provide support that a service that is 9-5 can’t provide.”

When Muir joined the JCC staff, Chill Chat was focusing more on supporting kids with disabilities, but she wanted to broaden that scope because, she said, “we’ve all been there and needed some kind of advice.”

And the program is now better supported itself. “We have so many different stakeholders who know about the program, who know how it’s run and who are highly invested in it, so it doesn’t just fall on to me,” said Muir.

Chill Chat has partnerships with a variety of organizations, such as the CIJA, CJPAC, JCC Maccabi, Festival HaRikud, the Duke of Edinburgh Award and Queerious. This allows the program to “really meet the needs that the participants want,” said Muir.

“If you have a kid that is already interested in athletics, then pairing up with a mentor and both of them working towards JCC Maccabi – they are working towards a common goals together,” she said by way of example.

The commitment for participants is that they communicate once a week in some way, in any form, “from Snapchat to a telegram,” and, once a month, mentors and mentees have to meet up face-to-face.

The meet-ups can be facilitated by the JCC, which hosts a Chill Chat Chill each month, where, said Muir, “we get together, we watch a movie, have a pizza party, go ice skating. Once a month we also have a Chill Chat Ed and we bring in educators to talk about what a mentoring relationship is like and how to support each other. We have an amazing partnership coming in November with CIJA and CJPAC, who are going to bring in people in the political world to do a world café and speak one-on-one with out mentors and mentees”

To take part in Chill Chat, teens and young adults can email Muir at [email protected], call her at 604-257-5111, ext. 308, or complete the form at thecalloutjcc.com/#!get-connected/c2022. There is a meet-and-greet picnic on Sept. 25, from 11 a.m. to 1 p.m., in the JCC Teen Lounge.

Zach Sagorin is a Vancouver freelance writer.

Son honors father’s legacy

For the Love of Spock explores Spock actor Leonard Nimoy’s legacy and his relationship with his son, Adam. (photo from For the Love of Spock via space.com)

When Leonard Nimoy announced in 1949 that he wanted to be an actor, and was leaving Boston for Hollywood, his Russian-Jewish parents were stunned.

“My grandfather said that he should take up the accordion,” said Adam Nimoy, Leonard’s son and the director of the new documentary For the Love of Spock. “You could always make money with the accordion. Those were Max Nimoy’s words of wisdom to my dad, if the actor thing didn’t work out.”

He needn’t have worried. Not because Leonard Nimoy eventually made it after 15 years of bit parts in movies and TV shows, thanks to Star Trek. Or because his talent and curiosity propelled him into singing, photography, poetry and film directing. Nimoy had a deeply ingrained work ethic, independent of the arts, that perpetually drove him. From folding chairs at the Boston Pops and selling vacuum cleaners in his hometown to installing aquariums in Los Angeles, Nimoy was determined to support himself and his family. But his ambitions assuredly lay elsewhere.

“He had a tremendous hunger to achieve, which was the dream of his parents coming over here, to achieve something in American society,” explained his son. “This is why he was so able to relate to Spock. My dad felt like an outsider, of a minority, of an immigrant background in a very defined neighborhood of Boston with other immigrants, and with a desire to assimilate himself into the greater culture.”

Nimoy, who died last year at the age of 83, is front and centre in For the Love of Spock.

The public often conflates an actor with a role. The documentary is wilfully guilty of that, too, delving into Nimoy’s personal life only so far as it relates to Spock or to Adam’s relationship with his dad. But it does include the story of how Nimoy took a childhood memory of seeing elders in synagogue making the “shin” gesture and adopted it as a Vulcan greeting.

“He was very connected to his Jewish roots and very proud of his Jewish roots,” Adam Nimoy said during a recent interview. “He repeated the story of the Spock salute hundreds of times, literally, with great pride about where he got it – that Spock is an embodiment of some of Judaism.”

He added, “It’s become a universal symbol. My dad, through Spock, has spread this tradition of Judaism to the world. The magnitude of that fact alone, that so many people all over the planet salute my father with a ‘shin,’ is just mind-boggling to me.”

Of course, not everything Leonard Nimoy did endeared him to his son. Driven to make the most of what might be a short-lived gig on Star Trek – NBC canceled the show after three seasons, in fact, although it found greater success in syndication – Nimoy accepted every personal appearance he was offered.

“It took a toll on us, we had challenges we had to deal with, without him around, without his involvement in the family,” said his son. “His career was number one. This is what caused a lot of friction between the two of us because I just didn’t feel like I had that much of his attention early on. He had a great love and respect for the fans, but trying to get him to look at me was very challenging for me.”

Alas, that experience continued beyond Adam’s adolescence. He was at University of California Berkeley in the late 1970s, on his own path to getting a law degree, when his father made a stop at Wheeler Hall on a college speaking tour.

“I waited for him to finish,” Adam recalled with a painful clarity. “I thought we were going to go to dinner together. He came up the aisle, signed some autographs and came up to me and said, ‘I have to catch a plane. I got another commitment I got to make tomorrow in Los Angeles, and I’m leaving.’

“I was devastated. ‘What am I, borsht?’ It wasn’t until later in his life that it was less about Leonard and his career and more about ‘what’s going on with my kids and my grandchildren.’”

Adam and Leonard were estranged for a stretch, exacerbated by the actor’s drinking and his son’s drug use. When asked if it was difficult to forgive his father, though, he doesn’t hesitate: “No, because I’m in 12-Step, and that’s a huge part of what 12-Step’s all about.”

Resentments and setbacks play only a passing role in For the Love of Spock, which is an unabashed tribute to Leonard Nimoy’s contributions as an actor and a man to a character who was and is widely embraced for embodying intelligence, science, fairness and integrity. (And for being different, of course, and living on the margins of mainstream society.)

The film omits the elder Nimoy’s record as a major benefactor of Jewish causes: the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra, a childhood centre at Temple Israel of Hollywood and the career counseling centre at Beit T’Shuvah, a Jewish recovery house.

It also leaves out the degree to which the actor passed down his pride and love of being Jewish.

“I would say that I am more religious than my father was,” said Adam. “I like to study Torah, I like to go to services on a regular basis on Friday night. Particularly the weekly Torah study has been very meaningful to me over the past couple of years. It’s just mind-boggling to me about the divine inspiration of the written word and how it always applies to something going on in my life. This is what enriches my life, and brings new meaning to my life.”

For the Love of Spock has two remaining screenings at Park Theatre in Vancouver: Sept. 18, 9:45 pm., and Sept. 20, 6:45 p.m.

Michael Fox is a writer and film critic living in San Francisco.

 

משטרת הגבולות ומריחואנה

(צילום: gsa.gov)

תופעה שהולכת להחמיר: משטרת הגבולות האמריקנית מונעת כניסת קנדים לארה”ב אם עישנו מריחואנה

אין גבול לחוצפה כנראה אצל משטרת הגבולות האמריקנית (יו.אס קסטמס אנד בורדר פרוטקשן). מתברר שלאחרונה במספר מקרים שוטרי גבול אמריקניים שאלו אזרחים קנדיים שמבקשים לעבור את הגבול לארצות הברית, אם הם עישנו אי פעם בחייהם מריחואנה. אלה שעונים בתמימות וביושר כי אכן עישנו בעברם את הסם הקל – לא יוכלו להיכנס יותר לארה”ב. הדחייה היא לתמיד ומדובר בגזירה קשה ביותר. במקרים מסויימים (תוך כדי עזרה של עורך דין) יכולים הנדחים לבקש אישור זמני להיכנס לארה”ב. ורק לאחר שיעברו בדיקה רפואית, בדיקה משטרתית וכן ימסרו טביעות אצבעות, יתכן ויונפק האישור הזמני לתקופה של בין שנה, שנתיים ועד לחמש שנים. ולאחר מכן הם יאלצו לבקש לחדש את האישור שוב ושוב לכל החיים. הנפקת האישור הזמני אינה זולה והיא עולה אלף ומאתיים דולר, וכן יש לשלם בנפרד שכר טירחה לעורך הדין שטיפל בתיק. כל חידוש אישור כזה כרוך כמובן בתשלום נוסף.

image - U.S. Customs and Border Protection logoקנדי מאזור ונקובר מתיו הרווי (בן ה-39) שביקש לעבור את הגבול האמריקני כדי להגיע לקונצרט בסייאטל, נדחה על ידי משטרת הגבולות האמריקנית, לאחר שהודה כי כשהיה בן 18 עישן מריחואנה (ואז הוא נחקר במשך כשש שעות). הרווי מציע למי שנשאל פשוט לשקר ולא להודות כי עישנו את הסם בעבר, ואז הם יוכלו לעבור את הגבול בשקט.

משטרת הגבולות האמריקנית פועלת בהתאם לחוק הפדרלי ולא מעניין הסוכנות הפדרלית שכבר בשלוש מדינות בארה”ב, כולל וושינגטון הסמונה לפרובינציית בריטיש קולומביה, עישון מריחואנה הוא הליך חוקי. בוודאי ובוודאי שמשטרת הגבולות לא תתייחס כלל לעובדה, שבקרוב עישון מריחואנה יהפוך להליך חוקי גם בקנדה. אז גם צפוי שהתופעה של קנדיים שלא יוכלו להיכנס לארה”ב תלך ותגדל.

בממשלה הפדרלית של קנדה כועסים מאוד על משטרת הגבולות האמריקנית ומבטיחים לנסות ולפעול לשנות את הגזירה, נגד אזרחים מקומיים תמימים שמבקשים לעבור את הגבול לשכנה מדרום. השר לביטחון פנים, רלף גודל, מציין שמדיניות משטרת הגבולות היא מגוחחת ויש לטפל בנושא בדחיפות.

ולעניין החוק בקנדה: הארגון הרפואי של קנדה מבקש מהממשלה לקבוע בחוק החדש, שעישון מריחואנה יתאפשר רק לאלה שמלאו להם 21, ולהטיל מגבלות על כמות השימוש בסם לאלה שטרם מלאו להם 25.

מטריה לכל צרה שלא תבוא: קורס ללמוד להשתמש במטריה להגנה עצמית

מטריות נפוצות בוונקובר הנחשבת לאחת הערים הגשומות ביותר בעולם ולכן זכתה לכינוי “ריינקובר”. ולכן תמיד מומלץ להסתובב בכאן עם מטריה כי גשם שעלול לרדת בכל רגע. אך מתברר שלמטריות יש עוד שימושים ובאקדמיה לסייף שבעיר מעבירים סדנאות על מה אפשר לעשות עימן, חוץ מלהתגונן מהגשם או לרקוד בו.

לאור ריבוי האלימות ברחובות המשתתפים בסדנא בת השעתיים לומדים בחלקה הראשון, טכניקות שונות כיצד אפשר להיעזר מטריה פתוחה ככלי להגנה עצמית לחסום מכה או להסטית אותה. לחילופין ניתן להפוך את המטריה לכלי נשק מאולתר של ממש ולהשתמש בשתי הקצוות שלה (בידית או בחנית) בעת סכנה שאורבת.

החלק השני הוא קורס לנימוסים והליכות עם מטריות. למשל: להציע גם לאחרים להתחלק במטריה שלך, כשלא משתמשים במטריה יש לדאוג שההחנית שלה תכוון כלפי מטה, יש להנמיך את המטריה כשהולכים מול אנשים אחרים, יש לנער את המטריה לפני שנכנסים למקום סגור (מסעדה, משרד או בית). וכמובן שאין שלוח הודעות טקסט כשהולכים עם מטריה פתוחה – זו מתכונות לתאונות.